


i'll carve time and space in the shape of you

by Alielle (TheKitteh)



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Minor Injuries, No Dialogue, One Taking Care of the Other, Romance, physical comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 01:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20055580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKitteh/pseuds/Alielle
Summary: It's been hours since,-- since Hoseok got hurt and Kihyun is still unable to breathe.





	i'll carve time and space in the shape of you

Jooheon doesn’t even say a word. 

He just looks at Kihyun as he flitters around the room, hair damp from his quick shower; looks on as he pulls on an old t-shirt that’s so worn out it barely holds shape anymore and desperately clings to its seams. He simply nods, eyes dark and pinched tight at the corners, when Kihyun grabs a key card from the table and barely remembers to put on the slippers. He throws Jooheon one last look.

For confirmation, not permission. 

Kihyun doesn’t - won’t - ask for permission in _this_ and Jooheon knows it all too well, just as he knows that he’s got the room for himself for tonight. 

So yes, he doesn’t say a word when Kihyun closes the door behind him and for that Kihyun is grateful, because he loves Jooheon, he does, but right now, he doesn’t have an inch of space in him that’s vacant for anyone else than Hoseok. 

He pads down one corridor and then the second, by some miracle not giving in to the urge to run, greeting the staff he passes by out of pure reflex. It's instinct, not intent, one that's been drilled into him since he was a wee babe. Once he reaches the door to Hoseok’s room, he swipes the card quickly, without hesitation and then he’s in the darkened room, alone among the clutter of clothes. There are medical creams and skin care products strewn carelessly over the table, a couple of bottles of water; among it all, Hoseok’s phone that’s constantly lighting up with notifications. Kihyun leans against the door heavily, forces himself to calm down, forces an intake of cool air into his tired lungs. The faint noise of the shower reaches his ears then, a soft constant hum in the otherwise silent room.

He takes another breath, all too aware how tight his chest constantly feels and his nose scrunched up at the smell of detergent and dust. It's a smell of hotels all over the world, of something strange and foreign and not of home. Breathes again, again and again and finally he moves.

Kihyun kicks off the non-descriptive white slippers as he pulls his tee over his head, feels how damp it is. He drops it onto the closest chair - barely stops himself from hanging it out all proper, but _now is not the time_ \- and immediately his boxers follow. He’s quiet when he enters the bathroom, not overly, no and definitely not on purpose, but he doesn't make too much noise as it is. 

Doesn’t need to. It's not like he's going to surprise Hoseok with his presence 

There’s a reason he had the extra key card after all. 

He blinks against the clouds of hot steam that roll out lazily from the stall. The slush of water is so loud in his ear compared to all of the previous silence and the thickness of humidity causes Kihyun’s throat to clog up as if someone shoved a damp rag down his throat. It doesn’t matter. Nothing from the outside world matters.

What does, however, is the hunched silhouette he can see through the steam, what matters is the painful lurch of his heart as he's tugged forward. 

Hoseok is simply standing under the shower, head bent under the weight of the water, the world and then some. He’s got his left arm braced against the tiled wall, wet hair falling in his face, as if hiding him from the outside world. Kihyun knows by heart that his eyes are closed and he sees how the muscles in Hoseok's back and shoulders are bunching up, a soft-hard ripple under the smooth, pinked-up expanse of skin.

Water rolls down the dips and valleys of his back; cascades down the straight, _ too _ straight line of his spine.

Even when he's simply standing there - Kihyun thinks - motionless, under a spray of hot water and amidst clouds of steam, Hoseok is all raw strength and silent power. He looks unatainable, untouchable. Tense, quivering like a bowstring ready to be released. Seems dangerous, like a tiger, all coiled muscles and ready to pouncel; a spring ready to snap. 

(_And oh, he did snap, not like a tight, tight coil, but more of a dried-out tree, hollowed out and emptied of everything he ever had to give. Caused the whole arena to hold its breath, the medics to rush forth and Kihyun’s heart to stop beating and never restart until now._) 

Hoseok doesn't turn, doesn’t make a sound but there is a tiny, minuscule shift in his posture. It’s an acknowledgment of Kihyun’s presence in this small, damp space. An obvious invitation in the most non-obvious way; a request where none is needed. 

Kihyun touches him with his hand first, there is no hesitation as he steps into the shower stall. It's enough for both of them to fit, if Kihyun moves in close, and then even closer, as he rests his forehead between Hoseok’s shoulder blades, his smaller hands finding purpose over the hard-cut rise of Hoseok's hips. There is no doubt as he presses his body, all of his sharp lines and protruding angles against Hoseok, against the planes of muscles and the tightly pulled skin. He fits, as usual, as always, perfectly like he’s Hoseok’s missing part. 

For a moment, nothing happens and then Kihyun tightened his hold, feels the hip bones dig into the inside of his palms.

And just like that, with a small, small sound that rips itself from his throat, Hoseok unravels before him. Tension sees to bleed out o him, only to be swept away along with water down the drain and all of his strength collapses, folds in on itself and then, then, all of it reimains tucked safely into Kihyun’s hands. It’s grasped between his nimble fingers, hidden in the wet space right underneath Kihyun’s palms. He's keeping himself upright but it's Kihyun who holds him steady.

And Kihyun presses in further, impossibly so, and presses open-mouth kisses at the top of Hoseok’s spine, drags his mouth over the protruding knobs at the base of his neck. He tastes salt underneath the onslaught of water, savors the quiver and a thought flickers through his tired mind, that tension-pain-exhaustion prooves to be a bitter, bitter taste on Hoseok’s usually sweet skin.

He breathes in the cloying scent of the complimentary soap trhough his mouth, mutters reassurances and their kind of sweet nothings into the wet skin. Hopes his voice will melt through muscle and cells alike, hopes it’ll revibrate through Hoseok’s bones and etches them whole, strengthens them just as Hoseok strengthens him. Hoseok’s breath hitches and Kihyun can _ feel _ how it lodges itself in that tight, tight throat, how it keeps a bubble of wet noises at bay. Everything within him _ aches _ with the need to help and soothe and take away the pain that’s nipping at Hoseok’s body and mind and heart. 

But he only makes Hoseok turn to face him, makes the man drape himself over Kihyun’s smaller frame. He can feel how Hoseok holds all of his weight on his left side, how he favors the right and so he kisses that right shoulder, despite the sting of water in his eyes and the tremble he feels beneath his mouth. His lips map out the soft, soft curve of it, infinitely gentle while his hands soothe Hoseok’s sides. His fingers catch in the bumps and ridges of Hoseok’s ribs, press into the dip of his waist, glide over its smooth expanse to the small of his back. 

Kihyun shuts the water off when Hoseok’s hands finally find their purchase on Kihyun's hips. They're large, calloused and familiar, a blisfully grounding weight that should never be lifted from where it rests now. For a moment they stay like this, wet and wrapped around each other before Kihyun leads them out of the stall. The hotel towels aren’t overly large or too soft, quite scratchy in fact, so Kihyun’s gentle, as he dabs moisture from Hoseok’s face until he sees those pretty eyes of his blink up at him. They’re red-rimmed and the corners are drooping, exhaustion etching deep lines around them and Kihyun's helpless, unable to do anything but kiss them, feeling damp lashes flutter against his cheek. 

They’re dripping water over the tiles and then the carpet as he tugs Hoseok back into the room, where the AC is cranked up high and causes goosbumps to rise on legs and arms. 

He smiles when Hoseok sighs and tries to take the towel from him, water rivulets trailing down his chest, down his legs to sink into the bland grey carpet. Instead, Kihyun dries his hair first. He ducks underneath the fabric so they’re hidden underneath as he rubs it over Hoseok’s head, coaxing an amused huff out off him. It’s a first one in the longest while and Kihyun bumps their noses gently, then kisses the trembling corner of Hoseok's full mouth before he finally slides the towel off. 

Hoseok’s hair sticks out in every direction and there’s still an ugly sort of tightness in his face - born from bone-deep exhaustion and a pulsating pain - but he’s still the most beautiful human being in Kihyun’s eyes. Even if he’s too quiet, too not like himself, but that’s ok, there was enough of loud noise tonight for the silence between them to be welcomed, needed. He sways a little on his feet too, as if forever torn between Kihyun’s pull and his body's need to rest and well. There’s no real choice here to make, is there. 

The bed’s not far and it’s all too easy to guide Hoseok to it, make him sit on the coverlet that’s covering the lower half of the bed and drop to his own knees. The carpet’s scratchy as well, digging unpleasantly into Kihyun’s skin, but it’s a discomfort easy to ignore as he looks up. Hoseok's looking at him through half-closed lids already, straining against the waves of weary that are clearly crashing over him. Kihyun presses a long kiss to the inside of Hoseok’s knee, feels how hot and tender it is under his lips. It's just a touch, a need to feel the connection in more way than emotional; to reassure hismself that Hoseok's right there with him and that he's going to be fine. He hears his name then, barely a mumble, languid and tired and when he looks up, Hoseok’s hand is outstretched in slow grabby motion like that of a tired child. 

Any other time and this would be different, with liquid heat pooling in low in Kihyun’s belly, the same kind that he would see reflected back in Hoseok’s eyes. At any other time and he’d be the one laying down, with his fingers digging bruises into Hoseok’s hips as he’d ordered the other around. Any other time and he’d be whispering string upon string of filth into Hoseok’s ear, until it would turn pretty and pink, he would be licking out broken moans and the scattered remains of his own name off an equally pretty and pink mouth. 

But right now Hoseok’s is already laying down on stomach, half of his face buried in the pillows already as Kihyun quickly dries himself off.

Now Kihyun crawls up his body, pressing gentle kisses up his spine as he goes, drops the last one on his shoulder. He sprawls himself over the alreadywarm, large body, cushions one cheek against a shoulderblade.

Now he reaches out and links their fingers together, tangles their feet in the sheets. Now he hears Hoseok’s heartbeat lazy and sure right under his ear. Feels the rumble of his name again and hears everything that sounds carries with it. He tightens his grip on Hoseok’s hand, presses his cheek into the soft, warm skin. His words are lace soft as they leave his mouth, as they disappear in the non-existent space between them. 

Now, he’ll cover Hoseok’s body as best as he can with his, be his cover and wall and shield. Whatever Hoseok needs. He'll remain there, right there between Hoseok and the rest of the world, for as long as he can. Even if it turns out only until morning. 

Underneath him, Hoseok breathes in and out, squeezes his hand back and Kihyun breathes with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I was this upset over the news on Wonho's shoulder injury today.
> 
> And yes, [ mrtvejpes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrtvejpes) made me do this. And yes, there is absolutely NO dialogue in here, you are reading this correctly. 
> 
> Way to go me.
> 
> You can find me on twitter [ @alielle ](https://twitter.com/alielle) , feel free to yell at me.


End file.
